My notes as I wrote them in this amazing dance workshop I’m in this weekend. From the wilderness in Flagstaff.
The road sounds fade as the sounds of the woods rise up.
Loudly two birds eject themselves from the top of that tree one chasing the other.
The small sweet calls of the other more delicate birds to my right chippering to their friends.
Their conversation holds as many pauses as whistle notes.
A buzz behind me–LOUD! What bug was that? Two now sounding like chain saws.
Down the ravine a larger squawk sounds like a baby’s cry.
I close my ears thinking I will hear better but really it’s more acute with my eyes open.
I see something…a dragonfly? No, it’s lilting down, a leaf, gilded by the sunlight, fluttering down so feminine, so charming, I think I can hear it’s silent song.
Footnote: interesting Freudian slip I caught as I transcribed this- I said I’d share it just as I wrote it so I did.
One thought on “sounds”
The pictures I see and sounds I hear just from your words is indescribable.
(I won’t reveal the slip— makes this a bit of a teaser for us to find)